The words you left behind
have made a new home here.
They string up the lights for Christmas and leave them on for 3 months straight.
I hear them in the kitchen in the middle of the night,
filling up on empty meaning.
They watch me leave through the window,
wait patiently for my return.
They sleep next to me at night and hold me closer than you ever did.

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“It’s back again,” I tell you.
You ask me what it is
and I’m not sure exactly what
to call it. So I tell you it’s that bird I thought I killed, the one that shits on my car every morning. It’s that sweater that still looks like his eyes and his hands and it’s been 9 months. It’s 7 days in a row on 3 hours of sleep and a stomach that tastes like guilt. It’s a poem that explains everything and fixes nothing.

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I didn’t choose to let you go. I didn’t choose to let your memory fade from my mind while your voice faded from my ears. I didn’t choose to leave you behind. I chose to live; and it turned out that choosing life meant choosing to live without you.

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Maybe we’re all fighting through the days, waiting for the one that will finally change everything. Maybe we’re all lost and confused, and painfully naive. Maybe we’re all a little psychologically broken, and warped, and terrified that we’ll never really find that place where we need to be. Maybe not. Maybe it’s just you and me. Maybe, one day, we could be these things together.

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You find yourself wondering how anybody truly knows the direction that they should go, or the direction that they are “meant” to go. There are so many thousands of lives set out in front of me, each begging for me to follow them, and I want to. There are equal parts in me that also beg for each and every one of these futures. I want to feel everything that I could ever feel and be everything that I could ever allow myself to be. I want everything, but life demands a certain amount of decision, and to decide on one future means leaving the rest behind. Time is running out and, more than anything else, I am absolutely terrified that the decision I make will not be the right one.

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It’s been almost 2 years since I’ve posted here, and I thought maybe I’d try to put something new in. You’ll see that my writing style and image preferences have changed, but I hope some of these words still mean something to you.

I am alone when I cry out your name. I am alone when I cry. I am alone.

I see your eyes for the sympathy that they’ve held but I see your hands for the bruises that they’ve left.

She loved more than any sane person can. She loved with every piece of her she ever had and with every piece she’d ever lost.

I thought that maybe I could help you even though I couldn’t help myself. I thought that might make the pain a little easier to deal with- knowing that you didn’t have to deal with it as well.

I need you to protect yourself. Because I’m too busy saving myself from me, to save you from me.

Just a few words strung together by a stupid, beautiful boy; but they meant the world to me.

One day you will be loved the way that you had once loved him. Maybe more.

And that is why you will continue on- not because love or happiness is promised, but because it exists and maybe, just maybe, you will be one of the few that find it.

Rush onward, beautiful, fragile soul.

You’re the butterflies in my stomach, the beating in my heart, the knife in my back.

Eventually we will all have to accept the fact that we are not healing. This will be our new normal. And still, the world will spin on.

She’ll never know you the way that I do. But you already know that.

I don’t know if you’ve changed, or if you were never who I thought you were to begin with.

You’ve carried on so long you couldn’t stop if you tried.

But God, you’d give anything to get back that feeling of not feeling anything at all.

The person I was 5 years ago wrote this for the person you were five years ago. But neither of those people exist anymore.

He is made of flame, scorching all he will touch. Can’t you feel the ashes already?

I still trickle through your veins. I am that poison you can’t feel.

And when I was young I bundled up the best parts of my soul and I left it in the woods. I’ve always found it there since, waiting.

But there’s still a dull ache in the depths of my lungs, reminding me that it’ll be back some day. And I wait.

There are questions that I no longer ask and there are secrets that I no longer tell. This is how I survive.

The secret was a hole in the middle of me that every happy thing fell into.

Why didn’t I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.

I saw you today. Watched as you walked the other way.

I did what I had to do to keep what was left of myself. I never promised that fixing me wouldn’t break you.

I breathed in your sweet, sickening words, felt your venom flow through my veins like air into my lungs. The spiral down was heavenly.

I was not enough. You never said it, but you didn’t need to.

I raise my eyes to see the sun on the horizon. For a split second I think it is dawn and hope swells within me. But this is dusk.

Fight for air that used to come so easy, this is surviving. It isn’t pretty, but holding life by the tips of your fingers never is.

But it isn’t that we’ve “been through” a lot. It’s that we’re going through a lot and that we always will be. These problems are a very part of us, and they aren’t going to change. This is just life for us.

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My heart beats a little too strong, and then a little too weak. But they tell me there are pills for that.
My mind races and my body shivers, like leaves in a storm. But they tell me there are pills for that.
My eyes are closed and I fear to open them, I can’t take anymore tears. But they tell me there are pills for that.

My body is still and my mind is numb, I feel nothing.
“Ah,” they say, “the pills have worked.”

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I know you’ve been waiting for what seems like forever. Trust me, I know it. But all I can tell you is to just give it time. Fill your days with all the little things that make you happy and before you know it, you’ll find that one big thing that makes everything worth it.

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The words were so clear and sharp, staring back at me from the page and the letters formed little pieces of hope within my heart. I guess sometimes all you really need to know is that you aren’t alone, that somebody else is feeling what you feel too.